Calling
by SteveGarbage
Summary: The call of the Old Gods can no longer be ignored in the head of Warden Commander Kallian Tabris. With precious time left, Kallian makes her final goodbyes before descending into the Deep Roads one last time. (Written pre-Inquisition. As written, the timeline of this story would occur just before the events of the game, approximately 9:36 Dragon)
1. Chapter 1

**One**

As her consciousness felt out the horde of darkspawn, fear washed through her.

Kallian Tabris couldn't remember the last time she was truly afraid of one of the monsters, but she was filled with an anxious tingle now as she felt their numbers.

She remembered being afraid as she crept through the Korcari Wilds with Alistair before her Joining. She remembered feeling fear at the top of the Tower of Ishal when she felled her first ogre. She remembered jumping awake, shaking, covered in sweat and sobbing the first time she dreamt of the Archdemon.

But by the time she came to the top of Fort Drakon to slay the Archmdemon or prowled deep into the Dragonbone Wastes to engage the Mother, she couldn't remember being filled with the anticipatory dread that now filled her veins.

" _Maker protect me,"_ she thought _. "Today is the day I come to your side."_

Although the Chant of Light was always on her lips as she laid down to rest, it was the beautiful song she heard in her dreams now, calling out to her. It was a song she dare not heed, however. She knew the dark path that melody heralded and she refused it.

It was the song that called to all Grey Wardens, sooner or later.

 _O Maker, hear my cry:_

 _Guide me through the blackest nights_

 _Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked_

 _Make me to rest in the warmest places._

She often recited the Chant to still her nerves and bring her calm. She recited it in her head when she fought, the words honing her concentration as the shield of the Maker and the Prophet kept her safe.

But she knew there would be no escape from this battle. She would continue to press forward until she fell, like thousands of Wardens before her time had done in these Deep Roads.

It was the Old Gods that called her home, but by the end of the night, she would rest in the presence of the Maker.

"Are you ready, Commander?"

Kallian was startled by the sudden break in the silence as Sigrun addressed her. While usually bubbly and perky, even Sigrun had become dire as they sat perched on the ledge, spying down into the crevice filled with darkspawn.

They wandered farther into the Deep Roads than she would have ever thought possible. Since the Fifth Blight, finding darkspawn was becoming more of a challenge. But the Deep Roads were expansive and parts hadn't been seen in centuries.

Sigrun and the other members of the Legion of the Dead that accompanied her stared in awe as they stumbled upon thaigs that had spent generations covered in the slimy, black, stinking corruption of the darkspawn.

They found statues of dwarven elders whose names who had been long lost to time. The history of Orzammar was just a sliver of the dwarven past, a history that actually had a chance to continue without being devoured by the darkspawn. The great houses in Orzammar and their squabbles were distant branches of trees that started in these thaigs, that were once connected by these great highways.

These places had now spent so much time under the shadow of the darkspawn that it was hard to even consider them drawven places now. Maybe if a thousand workers spent a hundred years scrubbing away all the filth, it might look like a dwarven hall again. But the few outside of the Legion of the Dead who had seen Kal'Hirol since Kallian liberated it knew that anywhere that wasn't Orzammar wasn't really dwarven any more.

This place was ancient. The walls were dwarven carved stone, but the features were so faded by years of darkspawn filth eroding them away. Only the slight ridges, the few columns jutting toward the ceiling above even hinted that something once lived here.

But the floor - which after a short wipe showed the remains of an intricately tiled mosaic of glazed stone - opened into a fissure below and Kallian could sense thousands of darkspawn skulking in the blackness below. It was too far to see and she dared not light torches or unsheath glowstones before she was ready to make her attack.

She could feel their consciousness, could sense them sniffing and feeling the air. The darkspawn could feel her and Sigrun here, she knew. The taint connected them.

They had slain maybe a dozen darkspawn patrols higher up in the Deep Roads without any issue. A day ago - maybe it was two or three by now - they had cut their way through a group of about a half-dozen ogres and lost three legionnaires in the process. Early today they had been ambushed by a group of shrieks that killed another two legionnaires and given Sigrun a bad enough wound that she was still muttering about it.

Then they found this trench.

She could feel a broodmother down there. Several broodmothers. There was no telling how deep or how far the chamber stretched, but Kallian knew it was a vile place.

She wondered if this might be one of the places the darkspawn first broke through in the Deep Roads ages ago during the First Blight. It certainly had that ancient feel to it. Kallian couldn't even be sure where they were in relation to the upper world any more. They had started in Orzammar and starting heading toward Kal Sharok far to the northwest in the Anderfels.

For all she could tell, they might under the heartlands of Orlais by now. They had passed a group of Orlesian Wardens days ago, who had come down from a hole that stretched up along the road between Jader and Halamshiral. Those Wardens had cleared out a few teams of tunnelers and were preparing to collapse the tunnel at multiple points to protect the surface.

She doubted any Orlesian Wardens had ever found this place, which meant it must be miles away from the nearest Warden stronghold or known entrance to the surface in Orlais.

Kallian swallowed, considering Sigrun's question.

Thoughts of her loved ones flashed through her head again, of all those she had said goodbye to before preparing for this final battle. Saying those goodbyes were perhaps even harder than accepting the fate she was about to swallow.

"Yes," she said matter of factly, as confidently as she could, with one final push to shove all the doubt and fear out of her.

It was a lie, but one that every Warden needed to tell before going to their end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

The air in the Gnawed Noble Tavern was thick with smoke from the hearth.

She walked with her head down and her hood drawn tight that no one might notice her. It was late, so the common room was mostly empty and those who were still lounging around were so deep into their cups they likely wouldn't have noticed her anyway.

She took a right turn down the hall and went to the end, ducking quickly into the last room. She shut the door behind her and drew the hood back from her head.

He was sitting there, dressed in plain garb with a hood of his own pulled back and resting behind his neck. Two glasses of ale sat on the table, awaiting her arrival.

"I was wondering if maybe the guards had picked you up on the street. Thieves guild has been a problem lately and I seem to remember meeting a red-haired elf who knew how to pick just about any lock if she thought she might find shiny, shiny treasures inside."

Alistair's smirk was the same as the first day she met him, before thoughts of becoming King of Ferelden had even been considered as necessary realities. He had hardly changed since those days fighting the Blight. Even leading the realm hadn't taken the glow out of his face or that playful bite from his tongue.

"What guards?" Kallian said with a smirk of her own. "I was wondering if maybe it was some human holiday I wasn't aware of, St. Thiefy's Day or something, where all the guards get the night off."

Alistair rose from the seat and he hardly looked a king. He didn't even look like a Warden. He just looked like a regular man stealing away to the inn for a pint or two before bed.

He looked comfortable.

They hugged and he took one step back and shot her a disapproving glance. "You know what the turnover for that city guard job is?" He paused. "Neither do I, but I'd bet that it's a lot. All that standing, the late hours. And there's always that off-chance that the whole city is overrun by thousands of darkspawn and a giant, darkspawny dragon thing."

"I'm sure the pay is stellar, though," Kallian teased.

Alistair laughed. Kallian laughed.

They both knew this visit was the last time they would see each other, but there was laughter. Alistair understood the taint the same as her. They were both Wardens and they knew what that meant. He knew the price they all had to may.

That's why she had started with Alistair. The farewell would be the easiest of the toughest.

Leaving Vigil's Keep and the other Wardens were the least difficult of all. Like Alistair, they knew. They understood.

Most of her closest friends and companions has moved on anyway and it had been years since she saw them.

Nathaniel had left Ferelden to return to the Free Marches where he felt most at home. She had received a few reports from him about the work he was doing in the Deep Roads between Kirkwall and Starkhaven. He had found a good group of Wardens there, friends who had heard about his exploits at Vigil's Keep and the battle against the Mother. He now commanded his own small company of Wardens and she heard that darkspawn sightings in the Marches were as low as they had ever been.

She had left her recommendation that he take over as Commander of the Wardens in Ferelden in her stead. Seneschal Varel promised he would make the proper arrangements. They had sent notice to Weisshaupt far off in the Anderfels, but Ferelden was so far away she doubted they would question her appointment.

Velanna had been missing for years while in search of her sister. After the Architect, Utha and Seranni disappeared after the battle against the Mother, she made it her personal mission to track them down. She had led a small company of Wardens - Dalish and even a few humans she had all seen through their Joinings - for years trying to find them.

Those Wardens had returned to Vigil's Keep without her one day, saying she had darted down a tunnel after shouting Seranni's name. They searched for days, but found no trace of her. Kallian had wondered if she fell prey to a darkspawn trap, or perhaps she had truly found her sister and the Architect and joined with them.

Justice had abandoned the decaying body of Kristoff a short time after the coastlands were secured. He had always known his entrapment in Kristoff was unnatural, although wondrous to him. He had shown up at the doorstep of Kristoff's wife, spoken a few short words to her and abandoned the body. Whether the Spirit wandered the Fade again or was destroyed, Kallian wasn't sure.

Anders had abandoned the order, much to her dismay. She had heard reports of a Ferelden Warden in Kirkwall, a mage who fought to free his brethren from the oppression of the Templars there. She knew it had to be him, but she had never gone to find him or sent others to track him. He had always desired freedom and she had once promised not to enslave him to his vows. She made good on that promise, although she had always hoped he would return to the order some day.

She had shared a few mugs with Oghren and left him on good terms. The dwarf wasn't one for tearful goodbyes, but they left each other with a firm hug and years of good friendship between them. She could feel fear in the darkspawn whenever they stood before his mighty hammer. Their collective mind knew him, recognized him and feared him. He would be a terror to their numbers for the rest of his life.

Those were the easy ones.

She sat down and sipped her ale. It was warm. How long had Alistair been sitting there waiting for her, she wondered. Probably hours. She had never known the king to pass an opportunity to get away from the palace and the court.

As they sat, Kallian said, "I heard your sister is getting along well enough at the palace."

"Oh yes, yes. She's absolutely great at driving the old ball-and-chain up the walls. I thank the Maker every day that Goldanna is at least good for that," he said. "I always tell Anora that if she doesn't behave I'll name one of my sister's whelps as heir."

Goldanna's tune had changed after Alistair was named as the King, although she was still grossly unpleasant to be around. Alistair had reached out to her again and invited her to live at the court with her children and she had accepted.

From the moment Kallian had laid eyes upon Goldanna, she had never believed they were related. If they indeed had the same mother, they didn't look it. Certainly Goldanna didn't act it, but her life had been vastly different and more difficult than his. He lived in an Arl's estate and trained with the Templars. She had literally scrubbed out a living on her own with multiple children.

As much as Kallian disliked Goldanna, she couldn't fault her for the woman she grew into. She was a victim of circumstance.

"I'm sure the Queen would love that," Kallian said, taking her ale and sipping first. Anora was hardly the queen Kallian would have wished upon Alistair, but at the time she seemed like the best option.

There were hard times at the beginning. It was many months before Alistair had even wanted to speak to Kallian again after her decision to put Teryn Loghain through the Joining.

She had trusted Riordan and rightly so. It was shortly after she learned the grim secret of why a Grey Warden must be the one to slay the Archdemon. She kept Loghain close at hand and when the Archdemon was subdued, she gave him the order to strike the killing blow. To her, it was a redemption for a man who had caused so much death and strife.

He went to his end fearlessly.

The people regaled in the story of the last sacrifice of the Hero of River Dane in the taverns and many found it as cause to support the new union of Queen Anora to Alistair. In the end, her decision brought a greater good to Ferelden, even if she never expected to speak to Alistair again.

When they finally did meet again prior to her being named as Warden Commander in Ferelden, it was a terse conversation.

"I'll never agree with what you did," Alistair had said. "But I understand why you did it. And I forgive you."

They slowly spoke more and more after that, and by the time she came to lead Vigil's Keep, it was like it had never happened at all.

Alistair nodded and took a drink from his mug. "I only hope the transition won't cause another civil war."

It was no secret that the Grey Wardens rarely conceived and there were rumors around the court in Denerim that the Queen was barren. She had failed to provide an heir for King Cailin, although there had been other rumors regarding that, that he hadn't tried very hard.

It was a harsh reality that Ferelden's current rulers would probably end their lives without providing an heir from their union. Civil war was a thought that wasn't far behind. Arl Teagan of Redcliffe still held a connection to the Theirin line through his sister Rowan. Goldanna's children held common lineage with Alistair through his mother, supposedly, but all came from common blood.

While pairing Alistair to Anora had worked in the short term, Kallian still wondered about the fallout of her decision. She would be long gone by the time it became a matter, but she had worked to preserve Ferelden and would lament to see it ripped apart again in some mad grab for power during another succession crisis.

Alistair placed the tankard down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His face went from typical Alistair to serious. "So you're hearing it when you sleep?"

"Yes," Kallian said. "You?"

"No, thankfully," he said. "I can't believe it's come on so fast."

"Me either," Kallian said. "They say the Calling comes faster to the Wardens during a Blight. And after dealing with the Blight and the Awakening, I can see why my time has come so soon."

"It's a shame," Alistair said. "Ferelden still needs you."

"They have you," she said, with a little smile at the corner of her mouth to break the heaviness of the conversation.

"Trust me, they're hardly better off for that," he said.

"I told you that from the beginning or have you already forgotten all that 'But I don't want to be king! I don't want to marry Anora!'" he added, tailing into a mockingly whiny voice.

"I've heard some say the Theirin kings were never much for rule, but nobody denies the positive effects they've had on Ferelden, yourself included, Alistair," she said with a smile.

"Now I feel all warm and fuzzy inside," he said, taking another drink from his mug.

As they talked, Kallian realized she missed these times. The way she and her companions used to sit around the campfire while fighting the Blight, sharing hot food and stories and even laughter despite the enclosing darkness.

She knew they were all off following their own great paths now, wherever they led. Alistair was leading a nation. Wynne, she had heard, was doing her best to try to hold the lid on the boiling pot that was the Circle. Shale was still seeking answers to her past. Leliana now served the Divine in Orlais. Sten had returned to Seheron and had not been heard from again. Zevran, she had heard, was dismantling the Antivan Crows in his effort to gain his freedom.

And then she remembered Morrigan. She had looked almost sad as they spoke before the ancient Eluvian. She had given a warning of the future, but Kallian knew she would not be here to try to prevent it. She hadn't exactly trusted Morrigan's word, anyway, but there was an equally strong sense that she could not trust in Flemeth either.

 _Snakes birth more snakes_ , she thought. Although she had considered trying to kill Morrigan before the witch escaped through the portal, her hands would not allow her to strike her down. It would be murder. She had no proof that Morrigan was up to anything sinister, although she expected the witch's purpose was less than pure.

She had left information with Varel and the Wardens at Amaranthine in case the witch did return as an antagonist, and she felt sad that perhaps she was passing problems she created on to others.

"I wish we could do this more often," she said with a smile.

"I suppose all we need is another Blight," Alistair said. "No big deal, though, right? We've done it once, I'm sure we could handle it again."

"I've heard them say that there are only seven Old Gods, therefore two more Blights maximum," she said.

She hoped that was true. Although she had trusted the Architect to try to free the darkspawn of their impulses, she held out little hope that he would actually succeed. Someday they would be back and perhaps they wouldn't be so lucky as they had the first five times.

"Right, let's just push those through them, get them out of the way and then we can have happiness and sunshine until the end of time," Alistair said.

"If only." She smiled too and clinked her cup against the King's and drank deeply, downing the rest of the glass. Alistair had done the same and they placed the empty cups on the table.

Alistair could tell that she had to be going and she could see sadness in his eyes. Although she had hated him at first in the pathetic way she hastily judged and hated all humans, she couldn't think of a better friend she had in all Thedas.

"Maybe someday we won't need Grey Wardens," Alistair said wishfully. "And maybe someday we won't have to have sad partings like these."

They hugged, a good firm hug, the kind people gave when they knew they wouldn't see each other ever again. Kallian blinked back tears in her eyes and squeezed the king she had made. "Take good care of Ferelden for me," she whispered.

"I'll try my best," he said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

They made their final preparations to descend.

Fifteen Legionnaires were still with her and Sigrun. Their commander, Tagrel, was agreeable that he and his brethren not find their end in this particular battle, if possible.

Tagrel was a savage fighter and he had enough scars on his face to show that he was about as much of a veteran of the Legion as anyone could be. Despite the stories they heard topside, the Legionnaires didn't wantonly throw away their lives rushing at darkspawn. Surviving, finding new ways to challenge the underground monsters was key, but the Legionnaires took risks others would not dare, since the prospect that they might die in battle was not a fear they held.

The best and smartest Legionnaires could live for years. Tagrel was one of those. He had been of the warrior caste, but fell out of favor with King Bhelen after events he wouldn't discuss. The King had offered him the chance to join the Legion or risk the wrath of the crown.

Honorable death or shameful death. Tagrel had chosen the former.

She could tell looking at his face that he wasn't reckless enough to go charging into this fight after the Wardens.

She had given him one trinket and one final request, and he had agreed to see it through.

" _Though the lands suffer a thousand wrongs,  
_ _The Maker yet notices the smallest of deeds."_

Tagrel snorted. "I sure hope your Maker isn't looking at what's down that hole."

Sigrun and the other dwarves took a moment to say their prayers to the Stone, some of the Legionnaires pressing their bare hand to the rock and closing their eyes as they silently mouthed their words.

Sigrun twirled her axes in her hands. She was nervous. Scared perhaps.

Kallian was feeling the same way. She recalled the Trials from the Chant in her head:

" _Draw your last breath, my friends,  
_ _Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky.  
_ _Rest at the Maker's right hand,  
_ _And be Forgiven."_

She opened her eyes and breathed one last breath to muster her courage.

"Let's go."

The Legionnaires lit their torches and they began to descend into the crevice. The Legionnaires pounded in stakes and lowered a rope and they began to go down. Kallian led, and as she lowered herself hand by hand down, the orangish glow of the torches above her grew fainter and fainter.

By the time her feet touched down to the floor below, onto a slick carpet of darkspawn corruption, she could barely make out the torches above her. The darkness was choking.

She reached to her pack and grabbed her own torch and struck a flint to spark it up. The oiled tip caught flame and sparked to life, illuminating the tunnel before her as Sigrun touched down.

As soon as the light from the torch danced to life, she could feel a change in the darkspawn collective. She couldn't see any down the approach, but they must obviously have sensed her presence now.

She turned to Sigrun, "Hurry, we need to get out of this tunnel before they pen us in."

Sigrun gave a confident nod and they started to run down the tunnel before them. Tagrel and the other Legionnaires who were coming down would have to catch up. Seconds could make the difference.

The smell of darkspawn corruption was overpowering and the air was so cold and stale that she could hardly breathe. The tunnels were narrow, clawed out by darkspawn diggers some centuries ago and never widened. This was an ancient hole.

Down this deep, she could already hear the sweet music in the back of her head and the consciousness of the darkspawn pulsed in her mind. It suddenly felt like someone was digging needles into the sides of her skull.

The tunnel forked and she turned left, feeling the chittering confusion and alarm in the darkspawn in that direction. Another fifty yards and the tunnel opened into a large cavern.

A cavern filled with darkspawn.

"Ugh, not shrieks again," Sigrun muttered between labored breaths behind her. "Left or right?"

Kallian placed her torch on the ground to give as much light to the cavern as it could and pulled her blades. The blue-green etchings of Starfang cast their own faint light as she pulled the blade from its scabbard with her right hand, while she quickly drew her father's blade Fang with her left.

The shrieks were confused, disoriented. These ones had never felt a Grey Warden before. They felt young, inexperienced. Fresh from the brood, maybe ready to start their neverending search for the Old Gods soon.

"I'll go left," Kallian said. "Meet you in the middle."

"Aye, Commander," Sigrun said.

Kallian bolted left and jumped down the ledge toward the shrieks. They weren't armored, but their taloned hands and feet were more than dangerous. Their stinking flesh was black and grey, their lips twisted up and cleft revealing their fangs underneath. Their pointed ears jutted out behind jagged scraps of metal armor, reminding her that these monsters once came from elves like her.

And it's what she would become if she didn't do this. Her hands locked tighter around her blades.

She clashed with the the one closest to her, catching it as if it didn't expect her to attack. She slashed down from over her shoulder with Starfang, connecting with the shriek at the shoulder and smashing it to the ground with one burst of black ichor.

As the shriek exploded under the force of her strike, she felt an immediate twinge go through the others. Surprise. Rage. Fear.

She twirled to her right, pulling Starfang out of the corpse in mid-turn and swung wide with Fang to tear across the face of another shriek. As her body turned like a whirlwind she brought Starfang around and took its head off, the blade slicing through with little resistance.

She pushed forward, the Chant on her lips to keep her focus and momentum.

" _Let the blade pass through the flesh,  
_ _Let my blood touch the ground,  
_ _Let my cries touch their hearts.  
_ _Let mine be the last sacrifice."_

She could feel claws ripping at the edges of her armor, tiny scratches at the edges of her periphery. But she was encased in her own bubble, the motions of her blades slashing through the darkspawn was rhythmic and natural to her now.

She could hear their anguished screams as the blades cut their corrupted flesh and feel the spray of thick and putrid blood on her body. In the background, the sweet music thrummed through her consciousness, blocked out forcefully by the recitation of the Chant in her own mind.

Kallian felt she could almost do this killing with her eyes closed. Even as the shrieks closed in around her and tried to bring her down, she felt so calm and in peace at that moment.

She bent her body around the untrained swing of a shriek's arm and severed it with Starfang and drove the thin blade of Fang deep into another's face. She pulled both blades and stepped confidently forward, checking a strike against the runed sword and counterstriking one, two, three slashes in sequence.

Fear was replacing the other feeling in the darkspawn. Their steps faltered and moved backward just slightly, sealing their doom. She mowed through their numbers as they hesitated and cowered ever so slightly, leaving a swath of bodies, severed appendages and heads and a wave of black, stinking filth behind her.

She had reached the other end of the cavern and fallen out of her battle haze, returning to reality. Suddenly she could feel the scratches and cuts the shrieks had managed to land upon her. She could feel a drop of her own tainted blood running down her left ear and a burning near her right hip. They were minor wounds, but they seized as the advanced taint in her body oozed forth.

She could still hear the other shrieks behind her. Sigrun was a fierce warrior in her own right, but never quite as quick as Kallian.

She turned her head to see how many Sigrun had left to dispatch.

But Sigrun wasn't one or two steps behind. Kallina couldn't see her at all.

Shrieks were flying into a pile about fifty feet away, their arms and legs moving in a frenzy that looked like a swarm of flies.

Tagrel's booming voice from the ledge above chilled her. The Legionnaires leapt to action as his shouts reverberated through the cavern.

"WARDEN DOWN! WARDEN DOWN!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

She was sure she had broken Shianni's heart.

Kallian arrived in the Alienage, unknowingly walking into to the music and décor of a festival. While she could sense darkspawn a mile away, she had no preparation for stumbling into Denerim with the entire Alienage awaiting her.

That had only made it harder.

She had wanted to arrive quietly and leave quickly, but that appeared to be out of the question.

"I should have warned you." She turned to see her father approaching, looking more grey and worn than she had ever seen him.

Years of hard labor had stacked up on Cyrion and the creases in her face were deeper than she had ever noticed. He limped now. The bags under his eyes were deep. But he still stood tall and straight. The misery of the alienage might wear him down but it would never break him.

"Are you well?" Kallian asked as she felt her father's bones. He had lost weight. A lot of weight. She wondered if he was ill. It wasn't uncommon for diseases to sweep through the tightly-packed alienage. They had been dealing with an outbreak of bloody cough the first time she had returned after becoming a Warden, in fact.

"Nothing to be concerned about, my daughter," he said, stifling a cough. He then lowered his voice, "Although I hear it is you that I need to worry about."

She had written to Cyrion with some of the details of why she was visiting, but hadn't told Shianni. She wanted to tell her cousin in person, where she trusted her father would be better prepared to handle her secret.

He was a strong man. He had lost Adaia years ago and taken to raising Kallian, Shianni and Soris on his own. He had worked whatever jobs he could scrape together to give them a good life - as good as it can get in an alienage - and still carried on. She always knew he missed her mother ever since she was arrested and executed in the Arl of Denerim's deep dungeons.

It was the same fate Kallian might have met if she had not chosen to fight her way out of the estate on her wedding day.

"But we can leave that until later," he said again in his normal speaking voice. "Your cousin went through the trouble of rousing the whole Alienage. I don't know how she found the time with all her work as the Bann. She pushes herself to death to try to improve our lot here, although she's usually not finding the rest of the nobles to be so receptive."

Kallian looked around the Alienage at the dilapidated homes and general grubbiness of the place she had grown up in. Not much had changed, unfortunately. And although the elves had donned their best to spend an evening with the Warden Commander, the Hero of Ferelden, it was still a sadly poor display from her downtrodden people.

The rise of Vigil's Keep and the revitalization of Amaranthine had brought new wealth into Denerim the city had not seen since before the Orlesian occupation. But all that new wealth obviously stopped at the gates of the alienage.

The only part of the alienage that looked better than the day she left it was the vhenadahl. The tree was larger and stronger than ever, not affected by the same rot and decay that ate away at the rest of the alienage. The tree was proud, a symbol to the elves to never give up, no matter how bleak every day was.

She knew Shianni was fighting to better their lives here. She was sure that the King was trying as well. But the politics of Denerim were more than just two people, even the King himself, could overcome alone.

"Cousin!" Shianni charged her and grasped her in a giant hug. "Surprise!"

It wasn't a surprise really, but she was happy to see her cousin again. Shianni looked tired although she tried to cover it up with her best smile. Kallian knew Shianni always put her toughest face on, but beneath her determination and drive was a sensitive soul.

Paper lanterns hung from long ropes draped around the vhenadahl as benches and stools and chairs of all shapes and sizes and condition were pulled around it for the meager feast they could muster. Some of the elves had already started getting into the drink. Children were sneakily trying to grab bits of food off the tables.

But the food smelled good from here and the elves gave a great cheer as Shianni walked Kallian into the party. They smiled and laughed and beamed with pride to see her again. The children looked in awe at her fancy armor and magical weapons hanging over her shoulders.

There were old faces she had known all her life and plenty of new faces too. The alienage had to be repopulated after the Blight and elves had come other places to Denerim. But there were young children too, ones who were clearly born since the Blight. Those small faces made her the happiest of all.

She had helped saved this city, save this country, so that those young children might live a full life, if not hard life, in peace.

"Thank you, everyone," Kallian said as Shianni showed her to the head of the biggest table, in the biggest, cleanest and fanciest chair pulled out to the alienage. Even as humble as it all was, the display was far more ostentatious than she cared for. "I'm so glad you could all take time out of your day and pull all of this together. Maker bless all of you."

Shianni waved her hands to hush the murmurs in the crowd. "In celebration of my cousin's visit home, the King himself - a Grey Warden like my cousin - insisted on opening his larders to provide extra food for the feast. So please, eat as much as you like, there should be more than enough for everyone."

That notion drew even louder cheers that Kallian's entrance. That didn't surprise her.

"Anything left over will be taken to the soup houses and will be given out for as long as it lasts," Shianni said. "So, let's eat!"

Watching the elves swarm the food was disturbingly similar to watching darkspawn pouring out of the Deep Roads, the way the jostled and squeezed for position, devouring everything in their path. But she was glad to know they would all be having a good meal. For some it might be the first large meal they'd had in weeks.

There was music and dancing and what few stories of the elves the elders could remember. They gathered around and listened to Kallian tell stories about the Blight and fighting the darkspawn.

The children stared wide-eyed as she told them the story of the Battle of Denerim.

"I vowed that no darkspawn would set foot inside these walls as the gate fell," Kallian said, pointing to the north gate. "When the timbers came crashing down, I jumped forward and cut down the ogre who destroyed it. Countless darkspawn charged forward to try to destroy our homes and kill our people.

"Next to me was Teryn Loghain, the Hero of River Dane, who sought to redeem himself as a Grey Warden and defender of Ferelden. Behind us were my friends, Wynne, a powerful enchanter from the Circle of Magi and Leliana, a sister from the Chantry guided by a vision from the Maker himself to help me.

"And behind them, many of your parents or older brothers and sisters stood with bows, joined by the Dalish elves who answered my call to fight the Blight. All together, they filled the sky with a thousand arrows that day, each one striking down a monster as it tried to cross the bridge.

"And when their numbers were exhausted, I looked around and saw that not one elf had died and not one darkspawn had crossed beyond these walls."

The children applauded loudly and then wanted to inspect her sword and knife and look at her magic rings and amulets themselves.

She knew the Dalish treasured the stories of the ancient history of the elves. But she hoped those children would remember these stories and pass them on to their children and grandchildren someday. Perhaps the stories of the alienage elves would someday have feats to match those of Arlathan and the Dales she only knew bits and fragments of.

As the evening wound down and cups were dry and seats abandoned, Kallian led what elves remained in a prayer to the Maker before they dispersed home.

It was only then that she sat around her father's table in his home to say her final farewells. As she explained the darkspawn taint and the Calling to them, she occasionally had to stop and bite back tears, reciting the Chant in her head to keep her composure. When it was all said and done, Shianni's cheeks were streaked with tears.

"You're, you're going to die?" she said.

"Yes." It was all she could say. No other words came to mind.

Shianni leaned forward and hugged her again, sobbing. "I thought, I thought you were finally coming home. Here to Denerim. To help us. To help me."

"I'm sorry, Shianni," Kallian said, now losing her own fight against the tears. "It's the way it has to be."

When Shianni finally had the strength to let go, she sat wiping her eyes and swearing at herself for her display. Her father had been quiet the entire time, sitting with his arms crossed over his chest and a grim look upon his face.

"What about the mages? They must know some way to heal you. To fix you?" Shianni pleaded.

"Not this. Not the taint," Kallian replied. Because nearly four hundred years had passed between the fourth and fifth Blights, people knew far to little about the darkspawn, the taint and the Grey Wardens. In Garahel's day, the price the Wardens paid was nearly common knowledge across the land. Now, and especially in Ferelden, some were lucky to even remember what the Grey Wardens were.

She had heard stories about how Grand Enchanter Fiona in Orlais might have been freed of the Calling, but the circumstances were unique, to say the least. Whatever had broken the call of the Old Gods to her would not work for Kallian.

"There's no reversing it, no stopping it," Kallian said. "When I left here with Duncan those years ago, I didn't know the price either." _In death - sacrifice._ She hadn't thought about the words of the Wardens since the last time she Joined a new recruit. Yet they suddenly flooded back to her.

Kallian grabbed her traveling pack and reached into it, removing a few items she had brought to give to each of them.

To her father, she returned her mother's boots that she had held onto since her wedding day.

"My daughter, I can't believe you kept these," he said as he held Adaia's boots in his hands once again. "I thought for sure they would have been destroyed or lost or thrown away during your grand journeys."

"It was all I had to remember her," Kallian said, giving her father a hug. She didn't remember much of her mother, but at nights in camp she would put the boots next to her pillow and look at them before falling asleep. Her mother had been a fighter, like her, and the boots had always given her comfort.

In front of Shianni, she placed a neatly-folded pile the clothes she had worn in her ill-fated wedding to Nelaros of Highever.

"I want you to have these," Kallian said as she pushed them toward her. "I saved them ever since I left here. I never was able to discard them."

She then looked at her left hand at the small golden ring she had received that day. She had found the small golden band in Nelaros' pocket as she held his lifeless body in her arms during her escape from the Arl of Denerim's estate all those years ago. She had worn it upon her finger every day since.

"And this, too," she said, placing the ring atop of the clothes in front of Shianni.

"No, I couldn't coz," Shianni said, picking up the ring and trying to hand it back to Kallian. "Not this."

"Yes," Kallian said pushing it back to her. "I want you to keep it. Whether for you the day you find a husband or for one of Soris' children. Or someone here in the Alienage. Just make good use of it."

After more back-and-forth struggling, Shianni finally wrapped her fist around the ring and gave a nod of surrender.

"I'll treasure these gifts," Shianni said, wiping another tear away with her first.

"I know you will, cousin." Kallian pushed back her chair and stood up, throwing the pack onto her back. "I have to leave."

Shianni's eyes grew wide. "You can't just stay tonight?"

"Yes, it's late, just stay tonight," her father agreed.

She shook her head and brushed her red hair back behind her left ear. "I'm sorry, I can't. I have so much ground to cover and sleep … I would rather not sleep more than I have to."

Even here in her father's home, in the late hours of the night, the music was just barely audible. For a second she focused on hearing it, it's luring melody so peaceful and seductive. But she quickly closed it out again.

She tossed a small sack upon the tabled that jingled as it struck with an otherwise heavy thud. "Every sovereign I have left," she said, knowing there were several hundred in the bag. "I trust both of you to use them to make good here in the Alienage."

She had first thought to give a gold piece or two to every elf she saw, but wasn't sure that wouldn't end in a riot of thefts and muggings. She knew Shianni would know the best way to put the money to use and stretch every last coin.

She gave her father one final hug, one in which he, too, finally cried.

"I couldn't be more proud of you, my daughter," he whispered into her ear.

She then embraced Shianni once more, both squeezing the other as tightly as they could.

"I love you, Kalli," she said.

"I love you too," Kallian answered. "I'll miss you."

When they broke, Kallian stepped to the door and before turning the handle, she addressed her family with a verse of the Chant that came to her mind.

" _Though all before me is shadow,  
_ _Yet shall the Maker be my guide.  
_ _I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.  
_ _For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light  
_ _And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost."_

With that, she turned the handle and stepped into the cold night air.


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

"WARDEN DOWN!" Tagrel shouted again.

The Legionnaires fired crossbow bolts into the pile and took up defensive positions behind their large round shields as they prepared to charge.

The moment of shock passed and Kallian gripped her blades tight again and rushed into the fray once more. As she approached the first shriek, her vision narrowed and the haze settled over her again.

The darkspawn moved almost in slow motion, their clawed hands ripping and tearing at the pile, shredding each other and, she knew, Sigrun at the bottom of it. She could hear grunts and shouts between the shrill shrieking of the corrupted elves and knew that her companion was still alive, still fighting at the bottom.

The recognition of the struggle shot fire through her body and she struck with such strength behind Starfang that the runed blade bisected the first shriek it hit. She swept both blades away from her body, slicing more shrieks who weren't even paying her any mind as she tore them to pieces.

The bottom of the pile, Sigrun, was all they cared about.

The Legionnaires crashed into the pile too from the opposite side, bringing axes and red steel maces down upon the pile of monsters. Some of the shrieks tore off only to be cut down by expertly placed bolts from the dwarven crossbows of the archers holding back, as Tagrel and his men smashed the others into the stone floor.

Kallian skewered the last of the shrieks on the pile and tossed it aside, finally laying eyes upon Sigrun laying on the bloodied stone below.

Her black Legion armor had been shredded to pieces and hot red blood was everywhere. Her axes were nowhere to be seen and the backs of her arms and hands were a criss-cross of deep wounds and eviscerated remains of her gauntlets. She had obviously tried to cover her head as the shrieks went into a frenzy on top of her.

Her arms were down now and Kallian could see numerous deep wounds across her cheeks and into her throat. Blood was seeping between her lips, each struggled breath she took gurgled from the wounds in her neck as she fought to just hang on.

She was trembling and shaking in shock and her eyes were wide and unblinking. As Kallian knelt down beside her, she reached out one of her bloodied hands to the commander.

Kallian could tell she wanted to speak, but the dwarf could barely breathe under the pain and damage of all the wounds. Kallian gripped Sigrun with both hands and could feel the dwarf weakly squeeze back. Sigrun's large, steel grey eyes trembled and Kallian could see bloody tears in them.

Most of all she saw fear as the dwarf knew her life was slipping away.

She had been a Legionnaire herself for more than a decade and had known this day was coming ever since. But no vows to the Legion or Joining could have truly prepared her to face her death.

Kallian squeezed Sigrun's hand once more. "Sigrun, since the day I met you, you have always been a faithful and fearless ally and source of strength to me. And more than that, you have always been my friend."

The shaking of Sigrun's body was growing more fierce and the wounds on her neck were spewing blood at an even more alarming rate. But she closed her eyes and gave a barely noticeable nod, just as much as she could move her head.

Her body wracked with tremors so strong that Kallian struggled to keep hold of her hand, and then a brief moment later, the dwarf fell still and her arm went limp between Kallian's hands.

"Ancestors guide you home to the Stone, Warden," Tagrel said as he and the other Legionnaires bowed their heads in mourning.

Tears were streaking Kallian's cheeks.

She had watched numerous recruits die during their Joinings. She had seen Teryn Loghain crumple as the archdemon's spirit destroyed his soul and ended his life. She held Nelaros in her arms and felt the warmth dissipate from his body.

But she had never lost a close friend and companion like this before. She regretted asking Sigrun to join her on her Calling. It had been selfish and foolish. She hadn't been able to conquer her own fear and had dragged Sigrun to her death too.

It was not a befitting death for a friend and a warrior as strong as Sigrun, torn to pieces by a mob of shrieks in a cavern shrouded in darkness miles below the surface of the world.

Kallian stood up, her blades hanging limply in her hands like unbearable weights. Her breath was uneven as she tried to regain her composure and bite back the tears. At the edges of her mind she could feel the chittering wave of darkspawn regrouping deeper in the cave. They had felt this group snuffed out and the confusion had evaporated.

They were coming.

But she felt something different as her breath evened in long and slow puffs. Her muscles tingled with the exertion of the fight and as she watched the Legionnaires tend to Sigrun, there was something else. In her blood, there was fire.

There was the taint.

The blood mage Avernus had horrifically researched the power of the Wardens' tainted blood. She had read through his notes and destroyed his vile concoctions, but the memories were suddenly there. There was power in the tainted blood.

Kallian had often wrestled with the difficult notion of how the taint had defiled the body. It's power was all to similar to the blood magic the Chantry had condemned centuries ago. She could only hope that the Maker would not judge her too harshly for imbibing the essence of the wicked ones he had cast out of the Golden City.

Sigrun was dead. And Kallian could feel her body burning from the inside out.

Her mind scrambled to latch on to a verse of the Chant, but they all slipped from the edge of her consciousness. It was rage. Rage was bubbling up inside her, the likes of which she had not felt since Shianni had been raped at the Arl of Denerim's estate. The kind or rage that blinded her so fully that she drove the Bann through without a second thought as the consequences or ripples of the action.

The rage was the fire, but the taint was the tinder. She could feel a renewed strength coursing through her, her body bursting with an energy that she could hardly contain.

She was sweating. Her breath was now coming in great heaves, her whole body moving as she inhaled and exhaled, eyes fixated on Sigrun's blood on the stone, her hands growing ever tighter around the grips of her blade.

Tagrel had taken notice. "Warden?" he said cautiously. When she didn't answer he said it more forcefully. " _Warden."_

He tried to grab her wrist but she smacked it away and glared at the Legionnaire commander. His dark eyes didn't falter and met her gaze with a steely resolve of a veteran warrior who had seen plenty of close friends die in the Deep Roads. "Don't. Don't do anything stupid."

The taint inside her was burning too hotly though. Her body demanded justice, demanded bloodshed, to repay Sigrun's death. It was a crawling itch coursing just beneath her skin and she couldn't deny it.

She turned suddenly and bolted toward the depth of the cave ahead of her. She could vaguely hear the cursing and shouting of Tagrel as she blazed away, her sprint moving so fast that her feet barely touched the ground and she felt like she was gliding inches over the stone.

The beautiful music pounded in her ear drums as she drowned in the power of the taint. Her will was overwhelmed and the darkness closed in around her. The runic light coming off Starfang was the only illumination as she ran, but just enough for her to see a few steps ahead.

Kallian didn't even realize she made contact with the first of the shrieks until she felt Starfang jar her arm back and drop her body out of flight. She stumbled and caught her feet as she could barely make out the shapes of bladed talons slicing through the darkness.

She spun, bringing the force of the blades around her body in a violent gale and could hear wailing as the blades effortless tore through tainted flesh all around her. She was deep into their numbers - her sprint had carried her far into the heart of a swarm. As she finished circling, she crouched low to the ground and pushed straight ahead, throwing long and powerful cuts in front of her to clear a path like a plow.

Each strike threw a wave of black blood back at her face as she rushed through the gore, ignoring the scratches and bites of the shrieks clawing at her sides. There was a great pulsing directly ahead that she couldn't ignore, that poured waves of hatred and corruption across her sixth sense.

Broodmother.

She could see the writhing tentacles and the mangled body of what was once an elf. Streaks of blackened hair drooped down the sides of the grey flesh, jagged ears that looked like someone had gnawed the edges with razor-like teeth jutting out from under it. The broodmother's sagging breasts were covered with scars and open wounds that were dripping black foulness.

This elf might once have been not unlike Kallian herself, but was now nothing more than a twisted horror of darkspawn corruption.

Kallian stopped and swept her blades behind her at the pursuing shrieks, and they stumbled and backed away before another felt the steely bite. Before her, what remained of the elven body of the broodmother rose up above the spider-like carapace of flab and tainted bloat, the tentacles slithering behind the mass like a fan of peacock feathers.

The broodmother let out a shrill scream that pierced through Kallian like a banshee and suddenly doused the burning of the taint inside her.

Kallian could feel pain along her arms and legs again as she regained her mind. She could feel where shriek talons had dug deeply into her right side below her ribs and the wound was a pulsing ache. Her shoulders felt like they would seize up and her weapons now weighed three times what they normally might. The front of her armor was dripping in black darkspawn blood and chunks of gore clung to her body.

The shrieks behind her were holding off, their taunts a muffled symphony of ravenous ecstasy and anticipation before their mother. The broodmother rose defiantly before her and had issued its challenge.

The power of the taint was still there, weaker than before but controlled. The Maker would forgive her if she leaned on this crutch now in her last hour as she consciously drew the power from within the darkspawn taint through her muscles once more. She tapped the small dwarven runes inset in her weapons with a finger and tongues of magical flame licked up the sides of her blades.

She herself straightened as tall as she could. An elf. A Grey Warden. A saint. She pointing the flaming tip of Starfang forward so the broodmother could observe the fiery starmetal blade before Kallian drove it through her.

Kallian shouted down her own challenge:

" _Blessed are they who stand before  
_ _The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.  
_ _Blessed are the peacekeepers, champions of the just.  
_ _Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.  
_ _In their blood, the Maker's will is written!"_

Kallian leapt.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

The small cottage was so far off the road, it had taken Kallian an extra day to find it.

She could see smoke rising from the chimney and a few plowed rows that were brimming with crops. Children scampered around the home, an axe sat wedged into a stump and chickens puttered around the yard, minding the small fence of roughly hewn logs.

The air still smelled of the rain that had fallen overnight but the sun was casting long, lazy rays over the land. This was a peaceful place now.

As Kallian approached up the dirt walk to the home, she felt pride that her other cousin had been able to earn this life for himself.

As she got closer to the home, the kids caught a glance of her - approaching in full armor with her blades peeking out from over her shoulders - and ran back inside. Maybe this place wasn't so safe, after all. When she came around the side of the house, she could see the human woman standing in the doorway with three children peering out from around her legs.

She could hear her cousin's voice from around the corner of the house, growing louder as he approached.

"I thought I told you thugs you wouldn't squeeze a single penny out of me and my family. I happen to be on good terms with the Bann and I swear I'll…"

As Soris came around the side of the house, she could recognize the hilt of the sword he brandished bare. It was Duncan's once, that he had given to Soris and Nelaros as they charged the Arl's estate in Denerim on their wedding day. It was the sword she had driven through Vaughn's chest after he and his entourage of lechers had raped Shianni.

In his other arm was a small but sturdy wooden shield. He carried both with confidence, although years of fighting had her mind instantly scanning his stance and posture and finding the weaknesses that she could pierce in an attack.

He stopped dead and lowered both his arms, looking dumbfounded and squinting like he was seeing ghosts shifting in the haze of the Fade. "Kallian? Is that really you?"

"You sound quite a bit bolder than the Soris I remember from the alienage," she said with a smile.

He drove the point of the longsword into the dirt and tossed the shield to the ground and looked to the porch.

"Darling, this is my cousin Kallian, who I've told you about. The Grey Warden," he said. His wife crouched down to explain what that meant to their children and Soris turned his attention back to Kallian.

"I can't believe you're actually here," he said, walking briskly over to hug her. "I, I just can't believe it. It's been how many years?"

He grabbed her in a hug and clinched her tightly, patting her back with his hands. She could feel the strength in his arms, muscles that must have developed as he tilled the land, chopped wood and butchered meat.

The Soris who whined about his bride on the day of their wedding was nowhere to be seen.

"Kids, kids come here and meet your Aunt Kallian," he said waving to his little ones and they came sprinting as best they could on short and wobbly legs. The oldest, his daughter, looked just five or six years old.

Her face, and the faces of his two sons were both so round and plump, like their mother. The edges of their ears were rounded too. Half-elves in blood, but human-looking to anyone who couldn't pick out the more subtle signs of their parentage. All three had golden hair like their mother too.

"But Kallian is my name!" said the girl with a pouty face and stamp of her foot. "She can't have the same name as me!"

Kallian laughed and then shot a disapproving look at her cousin. "You couldn't think of a different name for her?"

Soris laughed too. "Hey, you'd be surprised how many elves are naming their little girls Kallian nowadays. You know, you do something like drive back a wave of darkspawn and kill a giant dragon in the middle of the biggest city in Ferelden, that tends to draw attention."

"Still…" He was right. She had met at least four Kallians during the feast in the Alienage and talked to at least a dozen more young girls who said they would name their daughters after her once they were matched with husbands from other alienages.

"And these are my two boys, Soris and Nelaros."

Kallian couldn't decide whether her eyebrows bent in another glare or if her eyes watered just slightly remembering her husband-to-be.

The look on Soris' face told her he couldn't really tell which it was either. He shrugged. "I always said you were my hero, cousin. Besides, coming up with names is hard work. Harder than any of this."

He moved his hand is an arc to show off his small home and the land around it. To the elves living in squalor in the alienage, this small homestead would seem like the biggest palace in the world.

"I'm very impressed," Kallian said. "You wouldn't mind if I impose on you and your family for a night, a hot meal a place to sleep out of the rain? I think I stumbled across half the Bannorn trying to find this place, so my feet are a little sore."

Soris snorted. "The stories I've heard about the legendary Warden Commander and Hero of Ferelden are that she never sleeps, never tires and can kill an ogre just by giving it an icy stare."

She had heard those stories too.

"I promise I do sleep, just much less than usual. And trust me, the ogres take more than a glare. A lot more."

* * *

They put out a good spread on such short notice. Soris butchered one of the old hens and they roasted the bird while Soris and Kallian shared stories. His wife had some good bread she had made the day before, a little crusty but still days from being stale. She had roasted some of the carrots from the garden too with some herbs.

It was more than Soris and his family could eat, but far less than Kallian could have devoured. As the taint inside her grew stronger, she found her appetite had been growing just to muster the energy to fight it down as best she could. The stories Alistair had told of Wardens eating triple dinners weren't too far exaggerated, she had found.

After the Blight, Soris had left Denerim for Highever to work as a builder as Fergus Cousland rebuilt the north. He had met his wife at the Chantry and they fell in love. The wages he had earned were enough to carve out a small tract of land from a Bann whose habits of drinking and gambling had him desperate for coin. Desperate enough to sell to an elf and his human wife.

Being an elf had drawn some undue attention to their family and outlaws who thought to muscle money out of Soris. But he hadn't been lying when he said had close ties to the bann. Soris had helped the man steer clear of the drink and turned his life around, so the Bann now had a greater appreciation for Soris, despite his race.

They talked for hours, until the children were put to bed and his wife followed.

Soris and Kallian sat outside in the moonlight and under the stars and she prepared herself for another tough goodbye. Shianni had always been headstrong and tomboyish and could fend for her own. Soris had always been more timid, less driven. But he always had admired how Kallian's faith gave her strength, even as life in the alienage tried to break them down every day.

"I'm so proud of what you've been able to do here, Soris. A little surprised, actually," she said.

Soris folded his hands and sighed. "It hasn't always been easy. I still have nightmares about everything that happened in the Alienage after you left for the Wardens. They way the soldiers butchered their way through the street. The nights I spent in the dungeon. The senseless torture at the hands of Howe's men."

He wrung his hands and swallowed, obviously remembering whatever horrible things they had done to him again in that moment. "They enjoyed it. When the men screamed in pain, they would laugh. Actually laugh. Me, I wasn't anything to them. I didn't know anything. I wasn't a threat to anyone. I was just the one they fingered for the blood stains you left in the Arl's estate. Howe didn't even care that you had killed Vaughan. If you hadn't, he wouldn't have been able to swoop in so easily anyway."

Kallian suddenly remembering facing the trials of the Gauntlet before the Urn of Sacred ashes. The spirits there had confronted her with her failures, how she hadn't been able to save Shianni. The Gauntlet probed the the doubt she had harbored in her mind, the worry and concern she held about the fallout in the Alienage after she left. It was much as she had expected by the time she returned, but there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

She had taken all the responsibility for what happened on her wedding day. It was the right thing to do. She knew the humans wouldn't care, but she knew she had to do it to try to protect Soris and the others. It didn't work.

"That's why I left Denerim. I just couldn't look at the city the same way. When I went to Highever, it helped for a little bit, but soon those walls and those towers were just the same to me," Soris said. "I had to get out. Out here, those memories are further and further apart. But they'll never go away."

"I'm sorry you had to pay the price for my actions," Kallian said.

Soris shook his head. "I don't blame you. You did the right thing. And I chose to charge in there with Nelaros too. No one forced me into it."

"Still," Kallian said, putting her hand on his back. "All of the elves suffered because of me. I don't know that I'll ever be able to forgive myself for that."

"They'd all be dead - we'd all be dead - if it wasn't for you stopping the Blight. What more could we ask for, cousin?"

They sat in silence for a long time, looking at the stars and watching the moon rise higher into the night sky. Kallian could feel how at ease her cousin was here. She listened to the noises of the wood and the night around her, and all of the atmosphere was lulling her into a calm she hadn't felt in years.

It had been a difficult road, but Soris would survive here, she knew.

"I bet some of the elves back at the Alienage would be horrified to see my wife and kids, wouldn't they?" he said after a long time.

Kallian snickered. "They don't look a thing like you."

Soris leaned back and chuckled too. "More the better. They'll never have to live the kind of life we did. Never be called a knife-ear. Never be beaten or spat on or worse, ignored like they don't even exist. They'll live just like the humans. Free to do whatever they want. Able to rise to whatever calling they desire."

Kallian nodded. It saddened her knowing that someday the elves might eventually breed themselves out with the humans. But what Soris said was true. His children would live a better life than any elf growing up in the alienage, in the home of a noble or even free as he was. "They'll have a good life," she agreed. "Just don't let them forget where the came from, even if they keep it a secret their entire lives."

They were quiet again for a while before Soris again broke the silence. "So why did you really come all this way to visit, cousin?"

"I'm dying." She didn't try to mince or soften the reason. Everything she had seen of her cousin during this visit had shown her that she didn't need to try to play coy with him. He had grown so much, the blunt truth was something he could handle.

"Warden stuff?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm." Soris turned his head to look at her again in the darkness. "Are you afraid?"

Kallian placed her hands behind her to recline a bit and crane her head up. "You know, I've never really thought about it like that. It's just something that comes with being a Warden."

"But it's not the life you chose."

It wasn't. The choices were join the Wardens or be arrested, tortured and probably put to death in Denerim.

Just like her mother.

"No, but it's the life I've accepted," she said, "Truly, it's been better than any life I could foresee if I had stayed in the Alienage. Maybe I would have married Nelaros, had a few children of my own. Never left Denerim. Died in the Blight. Who knows?"

"You didn't really answer my question."

She was stalling to try to chew it over in her head. Was she afraid? Certainly everyone was afraid of dying. Certainly any normal person would be afraid of dying by willingly throwing themselves into the Deep Roads to fight darkspawn until they fell. But it was duty. Sacrifice.

Each day she could feel the taint growing stronger inside her and the thought made her sicker and sicker. She had seen too many ghouls, people poisoned by the corruption that had started to rot and lost their mind in the process. That was the alternative, a much less desirable alternative.

"No, I don't think so," she said. It felt like the truth as it passed her lips. "I've known for a long time this would happen. In the end, I'll return to the Maker and be at peace."

Soris nodded. They were quiet again and after a few more minutes, Soris decided to turn in for bed. Kallian, not wanting to sleep, stayed outside on the porch, absorbing the sounds of the wood and watching the stars and moon cruise across the sky until the sun began casting orangish beams between the tree trunks once more.

When morning came, Soris came outside to find that Kallian had already gone. Sitting on the porch was a shield and a note.

-Soris-

I didn't want to impose upon your family another day, and my time is short. I wanted you to have this shield. It was carefully crafted out of ancestral heartwood from the Wending Wood. A dear friend of mine, a Dalish Keeper, had used it for a time after I recruited her in the Wardens. Family was always the most important thing to her. And even when it seemed there was no hope, she always pressed on.

Don't let the wounds of the past slow you down. The best is always in front of you. Maker bless you, cousin.

All my love,

Kallian

Upon the shield, in fiery red paint, in thin, curving script, she had inscribed a verse from the Chant upon the face of the shield.

" _For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water.  
_ _As the moth sees light and goes toward flame,  
_ _She should see fire and go towards Light.  
_ _The Veil holds no uncertainty for her,  
_ _And she will know no fear of death, for the Maker  
_ _Shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

The broodmother's tentacles moved faster than she expected, faster than she remembered the last time she had to face one of these monstrosities.

There had been Laryn and the Mother, of course. She had slain one other hurlock broodmother after she and a group of Wardens had tracked down a particularly deep hole that had broken through the surface closer to Highever. That had been two years ago, and she still regretted not taking more Wardens and more experienced Wardens with her. Four of the newer recruits had been killed, as well as a veteran - an exiled dwarf from one of the noble houses in Orzammar that Oghren - of all people - had convinced to undergo the Joining.

This was her first encounter with a shriek broodmother and she was reminded that not all broodmothers were the same.

Laryn had been strong like the dwarves, but her bloated size and constant feedings made her slow. The Mother had been the overall fiercest of the three, but she was ravenous and insane and wild that made her vulnerable. The other hurlock broodmother was young and had poor control of her tentacles and razored claws, so had compensating by mercilessly spewing bile and acid that had felled the other members of her team.

But this shriek was fast and old. Perhaps she had been a Dalish hunter before being dragged below the earth and force fed corrupted flesh until she transformed. Kallian immediately got the sense that somewhere deep below years, maybe centuries of corruption, there was still a sharp mind laying dormant.

She didn't have as much girth as the other broodmothers, so her slimmer form gave her more mobility in the torso. Her tentacles, too, were thinner and sleeker, covered in barbs. Her mouth was filled with long, curved fangs and from her back, bony, multi-jointed spider-like arms and legs ended with sickled blades.

And of course, there was the bile and rot.

Kallian watched the tentacles whipping around her, some moving at her sides as feints, others snapping forward with snake-like bites or whipping across in fast slashing blows.

She stabbed forward with Fang as one tentacle tried to pierce down on her and checked another coming from her right side with Starfang. But then there was the bile, a bullet-like spit that struck her thigh while she was distracted parrying the tentacles. The force hit like a stone from a sling, but she could feel the corrosive acid beginning to eat through the leather and rings of her armor.

With the fiery blades, each strike she stopped left scorches and elicited wails of pain from the broodmother, but the pain only increased the fury of her attacks. Four tentacles all stabbed down from above Kallian's head and she had to roll forward to avoid them as the tentacles drove through the ground and shattered stone with their force.

She needed to get in closer and strike at the head, neck and spine, but the broodmother was all too aware of that as well. As Kallian stepped forward she was met by another blast of venomous spit and the warning slashes of the sickles from the broodmother's back.

She caught a strike from one of the longer, lower blades against Starfang and felt as the strike rang like metal against her own sword. She spun to the side as the tentacles slithered in to try to grab her and slashed down deep into one with Fang, severing the tip in a spray of black blood.

She stepped forward again but was met by another hail of slashes from the sickles and a wider spray of acid vomit that had begun to coat the floor and was casting up noxious fumes as it ate away at the stone.

Kallian was too slow to see another tentacle coming in from behind and the barbs raked down the back of her left shoulder, easily ripping through the pauldron and tearing deep into her flesh. She stumbled and let out a cry, trying desperately to keep her hold on Fang as the jolt rocked her entire arm.

As she stumbled another bolt of acidic spit whizzed past her, just brushing her right cheek. The hot spit of the broodmother's maw began to eat her flesh and burned as if she had been struck with a hot brand. She crossed her blades in front of her chest just in time to stop another tentacle driving at her heart like a spear. The force pushed her back, her feet sliding across the bile-slickened stone.

There were too many tentacles, too many hazards. Although she always fought an opponent straight-up, face-to-face, it was becoming alarmingly clear she wasn't going to nimbly slide in straight ahead or overpower the broodmother to make the strikes she needed.

She pushed the tentacle off her chest and threw a flurry of three quick stabs to strike into the corrupted flesh and quickly bolted to the side. As the tentacles chased her, she reached to her belt and grabbed two small flasks between her fingers.

Kallian had thumbed through pages of a particularly old tome on the shadow rogues and Nathaniel had taught her some of their techniques. It wasn't something she had practiced much and she hated to try relying on untested tricks in this type of situation, but in the moment she didn't have any better ideas.

She slashed with Starfang as she slid to a stop to back the tentacles away and threw the first vial against the ground. A blinding flash filled the room and smoke billowed out from the broken vial. For a darkspawn this deep underground, the sudden burst of light would be devastating.

The scream of the shriek broodmother chilled her once more as she remembered the lessons Zevran and Nathaniel had given her about slipping into the shadows and moving with stealth. She didn't have much time, but she could see the blind flailing of the tentacles and the way the scythed arms covered the body of the broodmother in purely defensive motion, as if expecting a sudden attack.

The broodmother screamed again and the pack of shrieks that had stopped their assault suddenly jumped to life again. Kallian could sense the meaning through her connection in the taint as well. " _Find her! Kill her!"_ the broodmother had screamed.

Kallian was already circling to the other side and she tossed the second vial up the elven body of the broodmother. The flask broke against the steely arms and another plume of smoke shot into the air. The darkspawn writhed and shook from side to side screaming as it frantically tried to break through the disorienting toxin.

Now was her only chance.

The Warden changed the grip on her blades to an underhand hold so that she could stab down with all of her power. The shrieks were closing in around her - although she wasn't sure if they knew she was there in that moment - but she sprinted forward, her feet running up the soft and treacherous mountain that was the corrupted flab of the broodmother's flank.

As the broodmother sensed the footsteps up its side, its tentacles all bolted in the direction at the same time, tracing the movement but it was too late. With a vault, Kallian flew through the air toward the cage of steeled arms and aimed her blades. She had swapped Starfang to her off-hand and pointed the sword between the arms to try to find purchase in the neck or torso of what remained of the elven body.

The runed sword slipped between the defenses and slid in just under the armpit, digging deep between where ribs would be on a normal elf. As the blade sank in, Kallian pushed herself off, leaving Starfang sunk deep into the wound and gripped Fang with both hands, driving the dagger deep into the spine of the broodmother.

As the blade dug in, her momentum carried her down, dragging the knife through flesh and bone and opening a gaping wound that gushed with stinking blood. The knife wrenched into a bone and she lost her grip on it, sliding down into the blubbery folds of the broodmother.

Before she could find her feet again, the tentacles were on top of her. The jagged points drove down to feel her out and the spiked barbs tore into her armor with ease. She could feel the tentacles wrapping underneath her and she tried to kick and break free but they moved too swiftly for her to respond without any weapons.

The tentacles squeezed around her midsection, biting straight through the armor and into her abdomen. As it constricted and pulled her up into, she could see her own blood running down the tentacles and feel an incredible pain unlike anything she had known in her life. Another wrapped around her throat, choking the air of her lungs as the barbs found purchase in her exposed flesh.

She was being lifted in front of the broodmother, even as its body shook and black blood pulsed out of the mortal wounds she had inflicted. The wounds she had inflicted on the broodmother were fatal, she knew.

These were her last moments. Her sight was darkening and the pain had faded as her body wasted into shock.

The broodmother lurched and screamed. It's hideous, corrupted eyes were shining with fear, but also with hate as they stayed locked on Kallian. As tentacles swung around to try to check the wounds, others were approaching to begin ripping Kallian to pieces.

Her left hand was free enough to reach to her belt and pull one last vial. She was high enough that she let the glass slip between her fingers and as it shattered across the ground, it threw a small plume of red flame and smoke. The final signal. She hoped the Legionnaires would come through for her.

Kallian was fading fast, but she could hear the booming voice of Tagrel from the distance.

"That's the signal! Now, Legionnaires! Burn it all!"

Kallian closed her eyes.

 _Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls.  
_ _From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.  
_ _Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you.  
_ _In my arms lies Eternity._

Andraste and the Maker were before her.

But her last thought was of her love.


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

Though the luring call of the Old Gods was always in her head, it was a different song that filled her ears this last night.

" _From the Fade I crafted you,  
_ _And to the Fade you shall return,  
_ _Each night in my dreams.  
_ _That you may always remember me."_

The Chant, she thought, always sounded more beautiful bathed in the Orlesian accent that spilled from Leliana's soft lips. The sheets on the bed in the inn at Jader were pulled up over them as they lay facing each other.

She kissed Leliana again, running her hand through her lover's hair and pressing her body up against Leliana once more.

Their legs tangled underneath the blankets, their flesh damp with sweat and dew of their love. Her entire body felt numb. She had fully given into pleasure, letting the electric wash through her as Leliana's mouth, hands and body explored every inch of her. Her entire body pulsed as her lover caressed her, kissed her, penetrated her.

Kallian relished all the tastes, touches and sounds as Leliana squirmed beneath her, as well. This would be their last time. She had lost track of time. It was still late at night, but the sun might not be too far away at this point.

She had saved this farewell for last. The hardest.

She had written to Leliana weeks ago, setting the date and the place. Kallian knew Leliana served faithfully at the Divine's side, but she had made it as clear in her letter as possible that she needed to come. Leliana had understood the urgency. Her response was curt and worried.

She had tried to explain to Leliana as soon as they met in the secluded inn on the Orlesian and Fereldan border. It in a back quarter of the city, a lavish place to rest that didn't draw much attention. Neither wanted to be noticed as they slipped into the city.

"We need to talk, Leliana," she had said.

"Please, don't," Leliana said. "I know why you are here. Let's not spoil this meeting with such darkness. Let us make the most of this last night together."

They had shared a light meal, drunk of Orlesian red wine, discussed the Chantry and what was happening in Val Royeaux. Kallian told stories of the new Wardens that had been recruited, shared news of Alistair, told her about Soris and his children.

As the sun faded and the bottle of wine drew on empty, they found themselves embracing each other on the floor before the hearth. They kissed softly and deeply, their hands exploring each others bodies. Their fingers fumbled with purpose at buttons and ties and hooks as they slowly shed their clothes and pushed their way up to the bed.

It had been more than a year since the last time she felt Leliana's embrace, felt her soft skin pressed against her body as they melted into one another. Kallian needed to feel that fire within her once more, she wanted to part this world knowing that her love could remember their last night together, the emotion, the ecstasy and the love they had found within each other so many years ago.

Kallian was not disappointed.

Before her wedding day, Kallian had never met Nelaros, had never had a chance to love him. But she was fully ready to embrace their marriage, for her father, for the alienage, for her future. That life was all she had ever known. The elf from Highever was handsome and kind. He had charged the Arl's estate to try to rescue her, despite not even knowing her. She had worn his wedding ring on her finger every day, a memento of a love that might have been and a sacrifice made for her sake.

She had not truly known love until Leliana, though. Kallian had never entertained the thought of finding love with another woman, but Leliana had a faith and devotion to Andraste that equalled her own. She was beautiful and caring, a true friend and companion.

Marjolaine had tried to destroy her. She recalled the fear as they walked the streets of Denerim, standing outside the door, preparing to confront her former mentor and mistress. They had spared Marjolaine, but Leliana had been so afraid, so fearful that she was slipping, that someday she would become the heartless spy and killer that her mistress was.

Kallian had silenced Leliana's doubt with a kiss, a confession of love, an assurance that she could not have fallen for someone as ruthless as Marjolaine. Together, they had conquered the Blight. Their first parting had been such sweet sorrow, but the world needed them both. Some day they would reunite, they promised.

Kallian had only wished that reunion came under different circumstances.

"I'm afraid, Leliana," she confessed as her lips pulled away from her lover.

She hadn't had an answer when Soris had asked her the question, but here, knotted with Leliana, she knew it was true now. She was walking to her doom, knowing everything she was loving behind. But this was the most painful, the hardest tie she had to sever before her Calling.

"The Maker will guide you, my love," Leliana said with a smile. "You walk into darkness, but you are Andraste's flame. You burn with faith and with love, and you will set the Deep Roads aflame. The Maker will be there to welcome you to his side."

Leliana kissed her again softly. "I would walk this road with you, gladly, my love. Just say the word, and I will be at your side."

Kallian shook her head. "No, please, don't say that." She knew her heart would give way and want Leliana at her side. But the bard could not walk this road with her. "This is my sacrifice. The Warden's price. I couldn't ask you to pay it with me."

She kissed Leliana again. "There is so much for you to do, yet, love. Justinia needs you. The Chantry needs you. Thedas still needs you. You must continue to shine the Maker's light upon this world, until there are no more dark places."

Leliana began to cry. As soon as she saw tears, Kallian's eyes burst as well. Leliana squeezed her tightly, their faces touching cheek to cheek.

Leliana whispered into her ear one last verse of the Chant.

 _"My hearth is yours, my bread is yours, my life is yours.  
_ _For all who walk in the sight of the Maker are one."_

"I will always be yours, Kallian," she said.

"And I, yours," Kallian replied stealing one more kiss. "Thank you. For everything."

They embraced, holding each other until they both drifted into sleep.

In the morning, as light poured through the narrow slats of the window, Kallian untangled herself Leliana and slipped out of bed.

She quietly slipped back into her clothes, her armor, and grabbed her pack.

She looked at Leliana, dozing softly in the bed, one last time.

Kallian turned and crept out of the room, softly latching the door behind her.

Upon her face, tears poured down her cheeks like rain.


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

Tagrel gripped the glass ball in his hand.

" _When the end is upon me, please, throw this grenade and incinerate the entire cavern,"_ the Warden had said. " _Let me pass from this world in flame, as Andraste did."_

The bomb was one of Dworkin the Mad's most potent creations, he knew. If the explosion brought down the entire cavern, so be it. Tagrel and all the others were already dead.

The Warden had dropped the red flame. The signal. She, too, was dead.

He and every one of the Legionnaires would charge the cavern in an instant to save her from the clutches of the darkspawn. But she had made this last request of them and he wasn't going to disobey a Warden's dying wish. Especially not this Warden.

"Legionnaires, fire!" he boomed and heaved the glass deep into the cavern.

The other Legionnaires were carrying firebombs, and each threw their high into the air, arcing into the void before them.

If his feet weren't rooted to the stone, Tagrel might have fallen.

The explosion shook the entire cave, a violent quaking that rattled the armor and made his legs numb. Red flame spread into the air, a wall of fire and force rumbling off the point of impact. Darkspawn were shrieking as the other jars of flame burst, adding more fuel to the fires that raged in the cavern.

The sudden light of the fire was so bright, Tagrel had to turn away before he was blinded. Heat poured over him as the caves turned into an inferno. Chunks of stone rattled and fell from the ceiling but the walls held as stone glowed orange-hot under the intense burning, dark shadows of dying darkspawn flailing and falling in the fire.

Somewhere in the middle of all that fire, he knew the Warden was little more than ash now.

The Legionnaires watched as the flames burned, as dark shapes of screaming shrieks popped out of the walls of fire, arms flailing wildly as they burned alive. The smell of burning darkspawn corruption was so strong Tagrel thought he might vomit.

But as he watched the flames flicker and begin to die, the knot in his guts were not due to darkspawn filth.

The hole in his stomach and lump in his throat were there as he said farewell to one of the greatest Wardens to grace the stone above.

"May you always find your way in the dark, Warden," Tagrel whispered to himself.

He didn't believe in her Maker or her prophet.

But if they did exist, she was there with them now.

She damn well better be.


End file.
